I watched a great Oregon Field Guide on the mustangs (horses, not Fords) of Oregon today and am determined to make the 8 hour drive to see them at some point. As it turns out, Oregon is home to 7% of the nation's wild horse population, which seems sweet until you watch the show and see the controversy and trouble involving this wild horse population. Regardless, the show reminded my of a horse I photographed in Wisconsin almost exactly a year ago. He was a special guy despite my general equine ambivalence.

Much easier time at the ol' pets and seniors shoot round 2. I was more prepared and had lots more fun pups. I had tuna fish and catnip with and, even better, refined technique. I learned most of the good stuff starts when all the treats and human revelry stop.

Today, I was scheduled to do a photo shoot with senior citizens and their pets...just some keepsakes for some community housing residents. I pictured myself shuffling small 'granny dogs' (and maybe a lab and retriever or two) on and off laps of sweet old ladies. My mental picture sounds pretty awesome, right? Well, none of the seniors wanted their photos taken, but they did want pictures of their pets, which all happened to be CATS. Now, don't get me wrong, I love cats. I do. However, coming in as a stranger into the space of a 'one person cat' (with a camera) results in a cat supreme panic attack...followed by coaxing out from behind beds, couches, chairs, etc. and then more darting and more coaxing. We did it, however, I'm pretty sure most on the cats look quite tormented in their, ahem, portraits...or maybe they just have the internet-popularized resting bitchy face. Next time around (yes there will be another time,) 1. More one-on-one time with the scaredy cats, 2. No crouchables, 3. A feather toy, 4. Knee pads and elbow pads.

In some Saturday super-rainy-and-it's-too-cloudy-to-go-see-the-spectacular-northern-lights-show desperation, Miss Whitney (and Miss Mille) served as models for some flash practice. To bait the pup, I used salty licorice that I picked up at the Dutch Import store (more about that in a later blog) today. Surprisingly, she LOVED it. The cat was tough but ultimately succumbed to the sound of crumpling paper.

Somehow it is just as exciting to fetch the tenth waterlogged stick as it is the first one. Same goes for catching snowballs. And ravaging the litter box for cat poop. The list goes on. An irrevocable spirit, unending energy and so much affection to give...she's come a long ways since the Louisiana animal shelter. Six weeks as a pound puppy is long forgotten.

The Who Dats blew dat at Saturday's divisional playoffs. As a former New Orleanian, the mention of the Saints always triggers a bit of nostalgia. I can't wait to return to NOLA and spray the city with my camera, but until then, here's an owl.

My mutt, Whitney, who is my inspiration for playing as hard as I can and sleeping as hard as I can and who lives each day in hopes to serve me better, has realized that one way that she can do so is by balancing anything I provide on her nose. Cheers to Monday.